The Unusual Heroes vs. The Pool of Radiance

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The Campaign:
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This adventure is a Forgotten Realms campaign takes place in the Dalelands. The party is all currently in Ashabenford.

The party started off at 3rd level an is working their way up a few levels before beginning the Pool of Radiance module.

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Character Creation:
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Each player was allowed to roll two columns of stats, each with seven scores, and they dropped the lowest.

Since the campaign setting is very epic, I wanted people to have decent ability scores, and was hoping that they would make lasting characters.

In addition, I had each player roll a d20 for the following:

F - Family
C - Contacts
M - Magic Items
W - Wealth

I started the party off at level 3, enabling them to play higher CR races, or to have a slightly more in-depth character history.

I then used their Magic Items and Wealth scores to adjust the starting wealth of third level characters to add to the roleplaying flavor and to offer some diversity. To my delight, the character of Hunter VonLeer rolled a 1 for magical items. Therefore he begins with a cursed item.

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The Party:
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Here is a quick synopsis of the party, and will be filled in with more detail at a later point:

Ziona - Half-Drow Cleric
Drexel - Tiefling Wizard
Hunter VonLeer - Human Fighter
Spiderfang (Tansooth) - Human Monk
Holden - Human Ranger/Rogue
Borghin - Dwarven Rogue/Warrior
Roughner - NPC Human Barbarian

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Session 1 - Part 1: The Adventure Begins...
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Just your typical day in Ashabenford, one of the larger settlements located within Mistledale:

It all began around mid-afternoon in The Velvet Veil when a young ranger of the Dales walked in and asked the bartender of local happenings. The bartender motioned to a small and awkward looking man who was trying feverishly to adhere a "Wanted" poster to the wall near the entrance. This comment caused the majority of the patrons to look over at the struggling man. Embarrassed by his incompetence, he turned and barked at the crowd that they could all read the sign when he was finished.

As Holden the ranger leaned back against the bar to continue his conversation with the barkeep, he noticed a very strange man sitting beside him. The man was beyond weathered. His skin was tanned and rough like leather. He wore several furs that were layered over heavy chainmail. Beside him stood a greatclub that balanced on it's own massive weight. Nothing about this man struck Holden as odd until the man drew forth a glass of fine wine and sipped from it with the daintiness of an elf. Seeing the surprised look on the young ranger's face, the barkeep smiled and backed away while nodding his head. He apparently foresaw a conversation that he had been privy to far too many times.

Almost instantly a conversation brewed between the two men, and if they had taken the time to glance around the room, they would have noticed that half of the patrons had their ears cocked in their direction trying to eavesdrop onto the conversation as best they could. In a gruff and almost guttural voice the barbarian, who introduced himself as Roughner, conveyed his disgust for the fact that he was sitting in town drinking, (of all things), a glass of wine. He went on without provocation into a rant about how he has lost his rage, and in the process become almost dainty. He attempted to slam his glass against the bar, but faltered at the last moment setting it gently down next to what appeared to be a blackened skull. Holden, who had been trying to repress a smirk, suddenly changed his expression as he viewed the hideous skull.

Roughner, noticing Holden's stare, went on to describe how he had managed to demolish a troll and held him down into a pit of fire. He described how when the flesh of the troll had melted away, he pulled the skull forth from the ashes and carved out the center to fashion a helm. After his story, he placed the helm upon his head and slapped it a few times to confirm that it was in place. Those with fine hearing could hear several sounds of disgust from the other patrons.

Holden, convinced that a man who wore a hollowed troll skull should not be drinking a glass of wine with his pinky outstretched, recommended that Roughner seek a powerful cleric to rid him of this apparent curse. Roughner frowned and pointed to the empty glass and stated that he just drank the last of his wealth, and he most likely wasn't going to have such magic performed cheaply (not that the thought of being the target of such magic comforted the barbarian).

Just then a local man looked up from his drink across the bar. With etched features and a jaw wider then the hilt of his sword, the young fighter heaved up a pouch of coins on the bar, and slid 10 gold towards the barbarian. "Consider this a gift from the VonLeers."

Holden recognized the man as a VonLeer even before the man stated his family's name. They all possessed those similar features, and the family could be found all over the Dales. What had really shocked Holden was the fact that the VonLeers were commonly known to be, "Almost as snooty as they are stingy." Perhaps this one is different he thought. After the VonLeer joined in on the conversation, they learned that his name was Hunter VonLeer.

Meanwhile in the bar, a very average looking human male approached a very unusual looking young woman who was center at one of the taverns center tables scribing into her journal. This woman's history was well known to almost anyone who passed through this town since she was often the topic of much gossip and wives tales. The result of her heritage was that of a half-drow, who was accepted in town, but not without the price of much ridicule and harassment. The man known as Drexel had his own reasoning for initiating this conversation, but Ziona had no objections to having someone to talk to. Without a friend to her name, she welcomed the interaction. Unbeknownst to both of them, another dark and secretive man lurking at a nearby table was also listening to their conversation to the best of his ability. Although this became a difficult task as a very loud and boisterous dwarf broke into song as he continued to add to empty mugs that lined his table.

At this point the feeble man had finished adhering the "Wanted" poster to the wall of the tavern and announced as if he had just crafted some magnificent piece of art, that the document was now available for viewing. Suddenly there was an overwhelming sound of numerous chairs sliding out from tables as the abundance of adventurers currently in the bar became apparent. Due to the awkwardness of the situation, a few people sat back down, while others moved swiftly towards the posting.

Of the first there were Drexel and Ziona. They quickly read that this sign was offering a bounty to the capture of those responsible for raids being conducted in the area of Galath's Roost. A small garrison had been sent to the investigate Galath's Roost, the area believed to be the raiders' base of operations, and had not returned. The bounty offered was 100 gold for each raider captured alive, and 25 gold for proof of any raider killed.

Upon reading the poster, Drexel turned to notice that the exceptionally quiet man who was sitting near them was now peering over his shoulder reading the text as well. Drexel managed to get a good glance at this man; who was wearing a jet-black suit under his travelers’ cloak: But Drexel didn't really think much of it at the time. By the time Drexel turned back towards Ziona, the man was gone.

Intrigued as well, Holden broke off from the conversation with Roughner and Hunter to investigate the sign himself. After quickly skimming the contents of the sign, the cunning ranger returned to the bar and said, "Roughner, I think we just found how to get you that money!"

The word "money" interested Hunter instantly, not surprising any onlooker...he was a VonLeer after all. This magical word also drew forth Drexel who was accompanied by Ziona. Within seconds a the details of an adventuring party were being discussed, with Drexel stating several times, "We split everything equally, five ways."

Just as they were agreeing that they would form their group, Drexel asked Ziona to pull down the posting. The eavesdropping, (and feigning drunk) dwarf took this as his queue and smoothly sprung from his seat, walked up to the sign and pulled it down. As Ziona began walking towards the sign, her eyes widened in disbelief as the dwarf placed the poster under his arm. Appalled, Drexel began trading some harsh words with the dwarf. The party quickly calmed as it was recommended that the dwarf just join the group rather then fighting about who should claim the poster.

All in agreement, Roughner the barbarian, Drexel the wizard, Hunter VonLeer the fighter, Holden the ranger, Ziona the half-drow cleric, and Borghain the dwarven rogue gathered their belongings left, heading straight out of town without making a single stop.

Only moments after stepping out of the tavern, the group was followed. The silent man from the bar slipped out back and placed his standard clothes in his pack, revealing a jet-black outfit of outstanding make. Quickly he "ran" up the side of the tavern to the roof to watch these adventurers from a distance.

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Still more to come...
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Session 1, Part 2: He who walks in Shadows...
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The party quickly left Ashabenford and began walking the road that would lead them to Galath's Roost.

Shortly after entering a forested area, Holden's keen eyesight identified that the group had a tail. Drexel took a quick look back and told the party the man in the bar was following them. The party acted as though they hadn't noticed anyone and continued on.

Lurking in the shadows, approximately 40 feet behind the group, a man did his best to travel unseen and unheard. He noticed that one of them was attempting to scout ahead. Not a big surprise he thought, humans in heavy armor and dwarves make for slow travel. Proceeding stealthily through the woods was not difficult when the ones he stalked moved like snails to him.

After some time, he noticed that the scout had not returned, and that the party started glancing behind them on a regular basis. Far too many glances in fact he had been spotted! Not wanting to appear suspicious, he walked onto the road and quickly approached the party. Silently, Holden emerged from the woods as well, nearly twenty feet behind the disguised man.

Suddenly finding that he himself was the one being followed, he quickly attempted to explain why he had been shadowing the group, "It is my job to avenge the injustice conveyed upon the garrison assigned to investigate Galath's Roost. It appears that we are traveling in the same direction."

Not particularly thrilled that they were being followed, yet taken aback by what appeared to be a non-threatening encounter, the party warily invited this unknown man to join them on their journey. They’re primary concern with adding yet another member was squelched when Drexel brought up his speech about equal shares. The cowled man interrupted, "I have no cares for the bounty, only justice."

With half of the party keeping their eye on the dwarf and the other on the potentially deceptive addition to the party, they continued their march into the early evening.

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Still more to come...
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Session 1 - Part 3: The Party’s First Test...
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That night the party carefully chose four watches, each with two party members. After an uneventful first watch, Drexel awoke and joined the existing watch even though it wasn't his turn. He merely stated that he couldn't sleep and no one felt the need to argue with him.

The night was dark and silent, broken only by the faint cracking of the near dwindling fire. Suddenly a large unbridled sound could be heard in the distance, yet its cause was blocked by the endless row of trees surrounding the windy road. The rest of the party quickly woke to the sound of an incoming army smashing through the forest, only to see that this army was an army of one. A large humanoid with crossed eyes and personal hygiene that would offend most orcs was barreling through young saplings and small trees.

The ogre gave the party half-a-second to prepare as he announced, "OKK SAY YOU GIMME YOU MONEY OR OKK GONNA EAT YOU!"

While Borghin and the masked, self-proclaimed warrior of justice took to the woods, Drexel decided that he would deal with this threat quickly and began casting an arcane spell. Drexel cursed the Ogre back into the woods, and in mere moments Okk turned to flee. The party, most of who had previously traveled alone, and never with a spellcaster such as Drexel were downright baffled.

As Okk began running at top speed he screamed, "YOU PEOPLE NO EAT OKK, HE NO TASTY.... WE CAN MAKE DEAL!"

Hunter stood proud waiting for the Ogre to eventually come back; he just kept thinking that the spell would break any time now. A watchful eye may have even noticed the fighter tapping his foot.

Roughner began hitting himself in the head, trying to build up the rage that has lead him forth into battle so many times before...but the rage wasn't coming.

Drexel, Holden, and Ziona moved forward drawing bows and crossbows. They began taking shots at the ogre and even scored a few hits.

Borghin was hidden off the side of the road near the adventurers’ gear, knowing that he was just too slow to attempt running after the dimwitted giant.

Unlike the others who stood their ground, or moved cautiously forward, the masked man who went by the alias Spiderfang, charged forward with great intensity. Seconds later he had caught up to the fleeing monster and began pummeling it in the back with his bare fists. The two sprinted forward into the deepest parts of the forest, traveling hundreds of feet from the campsite.

Drexel nervously informed Holden that the spell's effect should wear off at any moment, and was surprised that it had actually lasted as long as it did.
The entire party grimaced as they witnessed an amazing site off in the distance.

Without a moments notice, the Ogre firmly planted one foot in the ground, breaking his run. Okk had suddenly found new courage and used his tree trunk like leg to pivot his whole body around to face Spiderfang.

Seconds after Spiderfang saw the ogre's head turn, he felt the force of Okk's greatclub broadside his face. With an amazing act of brute strength, Okk continued his blow across Spiderfang's face, and readied his weapon for another swing.

From a distance,the party witnessed Spiderfang's face burst into a fountain of blood, yet he managed to remain standing. Drexel and Holden quickly devised a plan, knowing that if they didn't do something immediately, they might lose a party member without ever learning his name.

Spiderfang looked up at the ogre through determined eyes misted with sweat and blood. He could barely see, but he couldn't miss the gigantic humanoid that stood before him. As if he had been in the desperate conversation with Drexel and Holden, he knew that he had few chances left to save himself. As he narrowly dodged the next swing from the mighty ogre, he stood up straight with new determination. With a flick of his wrists, just as he had practiced on so many lonely nights, his gloves hurtled to the ground, revealing flames that burned as bright as torches surrounding his fists.

From the parties viewpoint it was hard to determine what had just happened. The area around Spiderfang and the ogre lit up, to reveal that both were still standing. Drexel began the execution of his plan and cast a spell on one of Holden's arrows. Holden then drew the arrow and shot it into the vicinity of the battle. Although Holden's arrow fell short, the darkness that suddenly surround it's vicinity should still disrupt the fight.

Spiderfang never noticed the darkness surrounding his back since his fists burned bright with magic more powerful then Drexel's spell. He forced his fists toward the ogre in a synchronized double attack.

Yet as Spiderfang's fist flew forward, the force of Okk's greatclub through him into the air like a rag doll. As his body crumpled under the force of the magnificent club, he let out a blood-curdling cry, the kind reserved for a dying man. Spiderfang, although still alive when he fell limply to the ground, was only moments from taking his last breadth, and no one in the party had a means of reaching him in time.

The party all looked shocked when they heard the scream, and their hopes that the ogre would disengage when surround by darkness was instantly ruined. Quickly they all sprinted around the darkness in an attempt to find both the ogre and their fallen comrade. Okk once again began insisting, "I'M GONNA EAT YOU HUMANS!"

On the backside of the darkness, the party found Spiderfang badly bloodied and barely breathing. Ziona hastily checked his vital signs and informed the party that he has a lot of internal bleeding, but the majority of blood loss has already stabilized.

Holden looked down at the young girl and noticed that there was hope in her stark lavender eyes. Ziona pulled forth a symbol from under her cloak, of a nude gray skinned elf dancing with a bastard sword. She closed her eyes and with one hand over her holy symbol, and another on the temple of their wounded friend, she called forth divine energies to bring him back to consciousness. Eilistaee, the goddess of good drow and of those that wish to live on the surface in peace, granted her the power to heal her friend.

Okk got lost after attempting to run through the darkness. He had been turned around and couldn't find people to eat anywhere. Sick of playing games with humans, Okk decided that this was a lost cause. Just as he was readying to leave, he noticed that the heroes had emerged from the far side of the darkness. Frustrated and hungry the ogre charged the party as Ziona was still healing Spiderfang.

As Okk charged, Hunter VonLeer stepped up to intercept him. As Okk and Hunter exchanged glancing blows, the party continued to pelt the ogre with bolts and arrows. Only a few moments later, Holden, the young ranger moved to join Hunter on the front line. To the amazement of the party, Holden tumbled behind the gigantic humanoid, drew his great sword as he came out of the roll, and ended his dexterous display by plunging it the square of the ogres back. Okk felt a big pinch into his back, only to notice a thick blade pierce through his chest as Holden sank the sword to the hilt. The ogre crumpled to the ground and Holden proceeded to nonchalantly retrieve the sword from Okk's carcass.

Holden was a man in his early twenties. He wore a weather-beaten outfit and a dusty cloak that marked him as a nomad to any passerby. Harnessing both the skills of a ranger and of a rogue made him a formidable foe indeed, yet the true threat came from his sharp wit. As Holden dusted himself off and regrouped with the party, he pointed to their dark and mysterious friend. He said, "I thought I recognized you, there is no mistaking those hands."

As the rest of the party marveled over the flaming fists, Holden continued with his speech, "You are Spiderfang, a vigilante of the Dales, upholding your own form of justice and have even defeated some powerful monsters."

Holden, not sure is this man was a pretender, or if the rumors were highly exaggerated, he pressed for more information to satisfy his curiosity.

The ogre had managed to knock the cowl off of Spiderfang's face. He was caked with his own blood and the healing hadn't removed all of the swelling, and although his face had been mended, his pride was still broken. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and his pride and responded, "Yes, I am THE Spiderfang, the last member of a monkish fighting order of Spiderfangs."

It was apparent to the party that this particular Spiderfang was a fledgling in comparison to those referred to in local legends. However, this made them feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn't going to overshadow the rest of the party.

The group continued watches throughout the remainder of the night, yet no other threat approached. In the morning they gathered their belongings and headed towards Galath's Roost. As they passed by the fallen ogre, Spiderfang reached in a special pouch and dropped a coin on Okk's bloodied torso. The coin was a mark of the Spiderfang order, displaying a spider on one side, and the scales of justice on the reverse.

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Still more to come...
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Session 1 - Part 4: Digging in the Dirt...
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The party continued to travel without event, arriving in the vicinity of the dwarven town Glen during late afternoon. The group halted for a moment to discuss their plans for the night.

Roughner felt that he could handle another sweet glass of wine, but wasn’t likely to find any in Glen, and therefore refused to enter town. Borghin was reluctant to enter as well; his lack of the typical industrious dwarven attitude had made him an unpopular visitor in the past. He had no intention of becoming the stereotypical dwarven miner or stonemason, and had a tendency to become very stubborn when it was thrown in his face. He was determined that he would not become a ‘nobody’ like his father, and Glen reminded him far too much of his home.

With those opinions stated, none felt the need to argue, so they setup camp off the side of the road. As they had expected, none dared to accost them throughout the night while in such proximity to town.

The following morning, the group hastily covered the remaining distance of their journey and arrived at Galath’s Roost. As the dilapidated structure came into view, they noticed that the cracked and vine covered stone building was surrounded by what was once a moat, but is now nothing more then a bramble filled ravine.

Holden, taking charge and full advantage of his wilderness talents, lead the party forward to the Roost. As they approached the crumbling keep, it was evident that the moat could be easily crossed since a portion had been filled with dirt. This makeshift bridge led to what appeared to have once been the front gate.

As the party began to draw their weapons and investigate, they turned to notice that Holden was already moving away from the entrance. Reluctantly, they followed the skilled ranger as he continued to investigate the perimeter of the ravine before charging inside.

In the distance to the south, Holden noted that scavenger birds were circling over a small hill near the border of the surrounding forest. He informed the rest of the party and they agreed that they would check it out later.

Upon reaching the front of the keep on the far side, Holden’s sharp eye noticed some tracks on the ground. Looking closer, he found that there were some faint booted tracks that had been nearly covered by a large number of animal tracks. These tracks appeared to be somewhat canine, and while Holden told the group that it was most likely wolves, he actually feared it to be worgs.

The party soon found the reason for all of the traffic in this area. Nearing the woods on the west side of the keep were three graves. They should have been unmarked, but were clearly evident due to the fact that portions of the bodies were unearthed and the flesh had been ravaged from the bone.

Holden rolled up his sleeves and dug into the soft dirt, pulling forth the uneaten portions of the corpses. It was apparent that each body was of a human male in their mid-twenties, and not a single one bore the remnants of any clothing. Slightly disturbed, and preparing for the worst, the party drew their weapons. Holden wiped the dirt from his hands a began tracking the paw prints back to a lair that had been dug under a large hedge that had gone unkempt near the edge of the barren moat.

As he approached, four aggressive canine creatures sprang forth. With their gnarled teeth and gray and tan spotted fur, these animals looked like a cross between a wolf and a leopard. When it was evident that these humans were not going to withdraw from their den, all four of the beasts did something that can only be described as ‘unnatural’. The party stared in awe as these dog-like monsters pulled back the flesh from their faces leaving the frightening sight of their skinless heads.

So fearful inspiring was the sight that Borghin and Spiderfang reconsidered their need to be involved in this battle. Although finding the sight disturbing, but not completely horrific, the party quickly dispersed of the threat before they could do any serious harm.

Once Borghin and Spiderfang returned to the party they insisted that the whole incident be forgotten. With this said, everyone was ready to keep the search moving to conserve as much daylight as possible.

The group now more suspicious of the circling vultures decided to investigate before venturing into the keep. On the way to the distant hill, Borghin’s keen sight spotted what appeared to be a sinkhole. Upon closer inspection of the dark hole, it was thought that this could drop into a dungeon or lower level of the keep. Hunter sneered at the hole in disgust, wanting nothing more then to avoid it altogether.

Hunter not particularly interested in spelunking into dark and ominous caverns, offers to hold the rope for anyone else brave enough to jump down. Borghin’s curiosity had been sparked, he readily volunteered and lowered himself down. As he reached the bottom, he noticed that the area was empty. He called up to the group, “It’s all clear down…HELP!!!”

Slightly stunned by the sudden change in Borghin’s tone, he began heaving. Borghin was all sorts of spooked as he described a large vine that attempted to latch around him, and how he narrowly made it out alive. Drexel, noticing the parties general concern about handling the situation, recommended that they finish their current task before they take any action.

Holden needed no provocation and returned to leading the group towards the site of expected carrion. Reaching the hill that they had seen from a distance, Holden began searching for tracks, although it was now obvious that the vultures were actually circling a little ways off where the base of the hill slowly sloped into the edge of the forest.

In the process of Holden trying to identify the tracks that he was able to find, he informed the party that this appeared to be some sort of campsite. They needed no further provocation, and began searching as well. After uncovering a few concealing garbage pits, the group gathered around to examine the obscure findings.

As Ziona took her turn picking through the piles of trash, she quickly identified the food as Underdark rations. Her father once a skilled drow warrior had taught her much about her inherited culture, and although had never seen the likes of such food, recognized it immediately.

Holden looking perplexed, eyes Ziona and says, “Well drow don’t ride horses.”

Suddenly very curious, Holden followed the horse tracks across the top of the hill, and then stops in amazement as all evidence of passage ends abruptly. Shaking his head not knowing what to make of it, he rejoins the others as they move down the hill to find several more disrupted gravesites.

Once again with a sigh, Holden rolls up his sleeves and digs into the dirt. This time however, the party finds three partially eaten drow that have been stripped of all belongings. As the other members of the party turn and begin to leave, Ziona kneeled before the disfigured bodies, and said a prayer over their loss.

Convinced that they had completely searched the surrounding area, the group returned to the sinkhole containing the foul tempered foliage. Borghin began tying the rope around his stocky midsection once again. Amidst his endless complaining about the danger to his personal well being, Spiderfang took action.

Using the slippers of the Spiderfang, given to him when by the previous incarnation of the vigilante alias, he began walking down the wall inside the pit. A miraculous site to the others, Spiderfang stood straight off the side the wall, while facing the ground. He began slowly waving his enchanted fists around, using their magical fire to light the corners of the room. Several uncomfortable moments passed as everyone waited for the anticipated attack.

Finally the wait was over, the deadly vine lurking below lashed out and attempted to rip the intruder from his perch on the rocky wall. Yet, Spiderfang’s magical slippers would not release him from the wall, and the vine began to pull harder.

In the open air above the sinkhole, hiding behind an averagely mundane appearance was a powerful and resourceful wizard. Drexel the son of half-fiend wasn’t about to be waylaid by a plant. He reached into his pack and pulled forth a vile of acid, poring it across the vine. Although the acid wasn’t strong enough to break its hold on Spiderfang, it certainly was effective.

Borghin and Roughner jumped down into the pit while Ziona summoned a Celestial Badger to gnaw through the feisty weed.
Holden brought the battle to a flashy ending when he; dove into the sinkhole, severing the vine with his greatsword, and broke into a roll as he landed unharmed.

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Isn't Galtah's Roost supposed to be haunted? Tune in again next week and find out...
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Session 2, Part 1: Spies emerge from the darkness...
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After pruning the antagonistic plant, the party briefly peered around the cave before retreating to the surface. Hunter still standing steadfast above lowered a rope to help the others, while Spiderfang walked back up the wall.

Back on the surface, the group took a short break to discuss the mystery that was unraveling before them. Drow, mounted raiders, and unmarked graves that were all somehow related. As they rested, the group continued to discuss their next course of action.

As the party finished their short rest, they noticed how quickly the darkness had covered the vicinity of Galath’s Roost. This time of year the sun set early, and the temperature dropped quickly. Although it was cold and dark, the party decided that they would adventure for a few more hours and possibly find a better site to shelter them from the harsh wind.

As they gathered their gear, Borghin pointed out movement in some nearby trees. As the party began to focus, they spotted the threat before they were able to draw their weapons. Two elves were coming out of hiding and approaching the party, and as they drew closer to the party, suddenly it was apparent that these were drow!

Ziona taking a step forward, proud of her heritage and believing that surface dwelling drow could live in peace with the other races that inhabit the Dalelands, hailed the dark elves. The drow, reluctantly returning her hail, kept their weapons sheathed. The party greatly outnumbered these onlookers, yet none seemed eager to test the might of the other.

After a long and uncomfortable moment of silence, one of the drow began to address the party. In common he spoke, “My name is Shidul, and I’m here to inform you that the raiders that you seek are not of our kin, they are humans.”

Holden, wary of their help called back to them, “What business is it of yours then?”

Shidul, quick to rebuke, “These same raiders wiped out our camp located nearby, and we have tracked them to this vicinity.”

The party informed the dark duo of the unmarked drow graves to the south, and the two groups ended their encounter as the drow withdrew in an unspoken truce. Not sure of the true intent of the drow, or their reasoning for providing information, the party decided to keep moving.

Hunter still refusing to jump down into what looked like a naturally formed sewer, firmly grabbed his rope, and said; “I’ll lower you down and will keep watch up here.”

Once again the remainder of the party began exploring the cave. They decided to follow a swift flowing stream to the west. Holden commented that the stream would be flowing downhill. Unsure of the significance to the adventure, the party took it for a valid excuse to continue forward.

As they moved downstream, the party came to a musty area containing several compost piles covered with an abundance of mushrooms and other fungi. As they looked around, they noticed with disgust that several gigantic ants were maintaining these piles. A third pile formed of rocks and sand was formed against the south wall, reaching nearly to the ceiling, and contained several large holes.

One of the ants, larger then the others was the first to react to the party. Its mandibles began clicking with an unsettling sound, and the group knew that they had wandered into unwelcome territory.

Spiderfang, the first to react rushed forward and attempted to vault across the stream and charge one of the worker ants. Borghin noticing that the monk had miscalculated his jump, rushed to pull the flailing Spiderfang from the rushing water.

Roughner, who had been traveling on the far side of the stream to begin with, rushed the solider ant and took a heavy-handed swing. Yellow puss and guts exploded across the room as the greatclub impacted against the ant’s carapace. The goop sprayed out and managed to cover a good portion of Ziona’s traveling cloak.

While Borghin and Spiderfang defended against a rushing worker ant, Drexel and Ziona pelted the ants with crossbow fire. Meanwhile, Holden had run up to aid Roughner, and the two successfully slaughtered the last remaining ant.

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Still more to come...
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Session 2, Part 2: On the verge of collapse...
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As the party cleaned themselves off from the barrage of ant guts, Holden informed the group that an ant colony must have a queen nearby. Keeping this in mind and ready for more action, the party proceeded to climb into the anthill on their hands and knees. Roughner was more then obliging when it was recommended that he remain at the entrance to keep any ants from entering.

Holden boldly led the party into the cramped passageways. Things were going smoothly, until a portion of the ground began collapsing under his weight, dropping Holden into another passage. As he lay there stunned, dirt and sand quickly poured down on him like rain.

With the sound of Holden’s muffled cry, the party taken aback comes to a halt. The sudden stop only makes matters worse as the dirt beneath Drexel’s legs gives way, dropping him partially into a lower level. The party begins to panic as they realize how unsafe this bug made passage really is.

As Holden begins to pull himself free he notices that he bumped something solid with his boot. Before he can inform the others, Drexel calls out in excruciating pain as a pair giant-size mandibles tear deeply into his calf. Drexel now spitting blood begins yelling for help while his deep wound fills with the swiftly sinking sand.

Back in the front of the line, Holden finds himself able to draw the ant up and into the passageway after him. As the ant moves forward, it finds itself flanked by Holden’s sharp sword, and a swift back kick from Spiderfang.

With one threat taken care of, Ziona does her part by wrenching free the now unconscious Drexel. As she pulled him back into their tunnel, she managed to catch her hand on something unseen but sharp on his forehead. Yet there was no time to inspect Drexel’s disguised anatomy. With little easy the angered ant came up and into the tunnel with the party. Already covered in Drexel’s blood it rushed forward to finish off the intruder.

Borghin quickly pivoted in the narrow tunnel and plunged his sword into the back section of the giant bug. The ant’s head jerked violently back towards Borghin as his guts gushed out of its hind section. The body of the ant shuddered slightly before the legs went limp and left it slightly twitching in a puddle of its own entrails.

Finally given a moment of safety, Ziona called upon her divine healing powers to restore Drexel to a conscious state. Grossed out, spooked, and feeling slightly claustrophobic, the entire party instantly retreated from the anthill.

As they immerged from the dirt pile, each shaking themselves off as if they were covered in spiders, Roughner couldn’t help but smirk.

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Still more to come...
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Session 2, Part 3: A foul smelling apparition...
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Once out of the sand-filled deathtrap, the party regrouped and began to regain their composure. The all watched as Borghin's eyes brightened, as bad joke-tellers' eyes often do right before they dip into their plethora of bad one-liners. "Y'know... that wasn't an ant hill... that was an ant HELL. ...Hah!!"

Deciding that they couldn’t take another joke like that, they quickly returned to following the stream. From this point the water split off into two directions, and the party followed to stronger of the currents to the southwest. About thirty feet downstream was a wide and shallow pool where the water stopped.

Peering into the water, they noticed that it was unusually green and murky. Pooling their combined knowledge, Drexel determined that the water appeared poisonous, and Borghin’s dwarven understanding of rock formations indicated the bottom didn’t appear to be either man-made or properly eroded.

Not wanting to mess with poisonous water, the part shifted its focus to searching the surrounding area. The walls were very unusually formed, with many crevices, and within each was a bottle of wine. The party mused at the clever use of a wine rack only to notice with shock as Roughner began drawing a picnic cloth from his pack, and from within his hearty sized stein hanging at his side, he drew forth a very delicately stashed wine glass.

As the rest of the party stifled their laughter and the dwarf added a few snide comments, Holden grabbed for a bottle of wine and heard a hiss as he pulled it from the shelf. Evident that there was a large snake in the makeshift wine-shelf the party began peering into the holes from a distance. It could be seen that the snake partially coiled covered at least 5 feet of the shelf.

Holden decided that he would move up to investigate the shelf closer. Minutes later, the head of the large viper sprung forth and sunk its venomous teeth into his outstretched arm. Reeling in pain he took a step back, while Borghin jumping to the rescue, drew his sword and chopped the snake’s head clean off.

Now that the snake was taken care of, Holden was starting to notice how badly the poison was affecting him. He hobbled over to a nearby corner and took a seat. Meanwhile Spiderfang and Roughner raided the wine rack. Roughner, even with his daintiness, managed to break about as many bottles as he saved.

Holden, feeling very weak, easily convinced the party to make camp here for the night. This wine shelter appeared to be safe and Spiderfang confirmed that there were many layers of untouched dust on the remaining bottles of wine.

As the group took settled down for the night around their cozy campfire, Ziona and Drexel took first watch. After Ziona had finished praying to her goddess during the rising of the moon, Drexel decided it was time tell her about his secret. He began the discussion by talking about how Ziona’s goddess Eilistraee believed that all races could live in peace. With a little twisting he got onto the subject of his own history, as a tiefling who had escaped from Thay. The discussion ended with Drexel removing his enchanted hat of disguise and revealing his true form to her. Having always been different from those around her, Ziona was very accepting and felt good knowing that Drexel had chosen to confided in her.

Very shortly after their conversation, as if waiting for them to finish, a wavering ghostlike voice resounded through the cavern asking, “Whooo Goooes There?”

Ziona quickly worked to wake the others while Drexel gave Spiderfang a light kick. Not hearing a response, the voice angered, “What do the living seek in the sepulcher of Galath the betrayed? Betrayed by small-minded men, glory seekers and snivelers!”

Drexel replied, “We are humble adventurers avenging the wrongful deaths of the keep guardians.”

“Is that so,” the voice questioned. “If you are truly heroes then know this, leave my resting place, and I will leave you unharmed. Furthermore, there is a winged-beast dwelling above that taunts my existence. If you bring me it’s head, I will reward you with one-tenth of my legendary treasure.”

The party began waking up and gathering their belongings. They were not incredibly anxious to start trouble with an ethereal entity, and Borghin was extremely apprehensive about encountering a ghost.

Yet Drexel was still a bit suspicious of the so-called ghost and listened intently to focus on the source of the voice and determined that it was coming from the pool of murky water. Amidst the commotion of the others picking up camp, he was able to call upon arcane magic to detect the presence of magic auras. While focusing in the direction of the voice, he noticed three such auras at the bottom of the pool.

“It’s a hoax,” he shouted.

Dropping everything but their weapons, the group began to ready themselves against the invisible threat. Drexel was the first to react, using his magic to pull one of the items from the pool. Spiderfang witnessed a wand fly from the water past his head and into Drexel’s grip.

Holden, still weak from his poisoning, managed to move away from the camp and hide within the shadows just before the center of the camp filled with a noxious vapor. The stench was horrible, driving everyone out of the area. Drexel, Roughner, and Ziona made it out unaffected, with Borghin the pushing as fast as his short legs would take him, gagging and spitting up the whole way to safety.

Spiderfang, also deeply affected by the choking cloud, decided that the fastest way out of the affected area was by wading through the pool of green water. In the meantime, Holden had noticed something swim up stream and past him, something resembling displaced water.

Minutes later as the fumes dispersed, Spiderfang was found still gagging on the far side to the murky pool. When he regained his composure, he stated that the pool wasn’t poisonous, but that the air sure was.

When Holden told the party that he thought he saw whatever it was swim away, Spiderfang had no qualms about going back into the water and seeing what was really down there. The party worked into the night dredging thousand of corroded coins from the pool. They also found the corpse of a long decade dwarf with a longsword and a scroll case containing arcane inscribed scrolls. Feeling even after looting the ghost of Galath’s hidden treasure, the group decided that it was best if they spent the remainder of the night above ground.

As the group returned to the sinkhole, they noticed that the rope was still hanging. Everyone glanced around and realized that they had left Hunter VonLeer on his own. Borghin made a statement that unnerved the rest of the party, “What if there is just an arm left up there still holding onto the rope.”

Cautiously Ziona stepped forward and tugged on the rope, thankfully finding it was still attached to something larger then a severed hand. Hunter jolted awake as the party called out to him. He had actually fallen asleep while standing and wasn’t exactly sure how much time had past. The party guiltily took advantage of the situation, and began to setup camp on the surface.

Although reasonably dressed for the season the party still found the night chilly, but Spiderfang had made several trips into the brisk water and was now starting to develop a nasty cough.

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Still more to come...
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Session 2, Part 4: What’s all the buzz about...
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After the long night, the party was off to slow start the next morning. Spiderfang woke to find that his outfit was stiff and very uncomfortable. Irritable and tired the party was prepared to rest another day while Drexel took the 16 hours needed to identify the two items they had pulled from the murky pool the previous evening.

Before most of them managed to pry themselves from the warmth of their bedrolls, they were approached by two elves. These two elves appeared be brothers, nearly identical in appearance, and seemingly ageless to the majority of the party. They hailed the party upon sight, but stopped a safe distance from the group.

“It is over an hour after dawn, you humans are sure making poor use of your time,” bellowed one of the elves in the group’s direction.

After a few snobbish remarks from the elves, especially one biting comment regarding Ziona’s heritage, it was determined that both groups were roughly on the same side, and were seeking the raiders. Ironically the party thought, these elves were in a very similar predicament to the two drow they had encountered the night before. The elves were also looking for one of their missing comrades, Inialos Oakwood.

The elves shared information with the group about what details they had on the raiders, and the location of the drow graves to the south. Drexel, annoyed with the pompous attitudes of the elven rangers, quickly retorted that they had already discovered the drow remains. He then questioned the elves on their thoughts about the other unmarked graves.

Having not found any other graves, they claimed that they didn’t know what Drexel was referring too. Drexel’s setup was perfect, and he followed through with, “Well, I guess our human ranger is just more adept at tracking.”

Drexel had scored a critical blow against the Elven egos, and it showed by the stunned looks on their faces. The brothers, deciding that they didn’t appreciate being the recipients of the snide remarks, bade the party good luck in a sarcastic tone and departed.

After the elven ranges had left, the group began setting up camp around Drexel to protect him from any possible interruptions. The party had discovered some valuable items, and they were all anxious to know what they were.

It wasn’t until early afternoon that the party had noticed anything out of the usual. Holden was the first to spot what appeared to be a gigantic bee. As the others were listening to the approaching buzzing, Holden had readied an arrow, and fired it into the body of the creature. Enraged, the bee flew directly towards Holden and plunged it’s stinger deep into his flesh. Moments after the bee’s stinger ripped off it’s abdomen, it fell to the ground dead.

The party congratulated Holden on his unconventional means of defeating the bee. Not amused by the other’s comments, Holden decided that he wouldn’t be terribly disappointed if he could manage a full day without being poisoned.

After 16 long hours of spell casting, the party once again called it a night. Luckily, yet another evening passed without rampaging ogres or haunting ghosts. In the morning, the party picked up their gear and headed back into the sinkhole to see what other mysteries they could unravel.

Hunter once again was more then willing to stand guard over the hole, and held the rope for the others as they descended back into the dark cavern. The adventurers decided to continue through the door near the area containing the naturally formed wine rack.

Upon reaching the door, Borghin stepped up to investigate for potential dangers. He reported to the party that it wasn’t trapped; in fact, it didn’t even have a locking mechanism. Agreeing that they should enter, Borghin gave the door a tug only to find that it was stuck.

Borghin, Holden, and Roughner decided that they would make short work of this challenge and each put a hand on the door handle. After the first unsuccessful try, they decided to try it again with a little more “UMPH.” To their dismay, their added “UMPH” managed to rip the handle straight off of the door. Behind them Ziona and Drexel exchanged disbelieving glances. Nearly fifteen minutes later, the party managed to pry the door free of it’s frame using Borghin’s crowbar.

As the door opened, they were overwhelmed by the sweet smell of flowers and honey. Looking around, it was evident that the honeycomb covering the walls had also sealed the door. The party also noticed a loud hum, and they knew instantly that this is where the giant bee that they encountered near the camp had come from.

Moment’s later over ten more giant bees rushed the intruders. Proving to be little match for the strong arms of the front line and Drexel’s wand of magic missles, the party pressed forward until they found and dispatched of the queen.

After exterminating the Queen and her workers, Borghin began slicing up the pupa covering the walls of the Queen’s chamber, ensuring that there would be no more bees next season.

Holden, pulled out a couple of the wine bottles in which he, Borghin, and Roughner had personally emptied with great pleasure, and began filling then with what he thought to be a very valuable commodity; honey.

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Next Time: Our unusual heroes make some unusual friends!
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Game night!

I'm going to rip it up tonight. Evil will not stand before my pow-wah!!